Aftermath
by redwitch3
Summary: AU. The aftermath of the final battle. Was meant to be a one-shot, but kind of got away from me! Will be HGCW and/or HGGW. Very angsty. Character Deaths. 19.4.12: Moved to HG/GW archive as story has shifted. New chapter due within the next week.
1. Aftermath

Disclaimer: They are mine! All mine! (not really - **beating away the lawyers with a big stick **)

Author Note: Here be Character Deaths – lots of 'em. If you don't like the fact that certain people are dead, move your pointer to the top right-hand corner of your screen and click the X button. Remember – it's summer, therefore it is far too hot for flames! Constructive criticism is fine, idol worship will be unexpected, but more than welcome ;-)

Brief Explanation: After reading HBP I realised that I haven't attempted to write anything particularly dark in the Potterverse (of course, as with all my fics, there will be romance, it's kind of a given!) so this is my imagining of the aftermath of the final battle. Ron/Hermione shippers may want to relocate – but hey, if you're open to a new fanfic experience, please stay, give it a try, you never know!

Chapter 1 - Aftermath

It wasn't what she'd expected. There was no pain, no relief, nothing. The screams that surrounded her sounded distant, as though she were submerged in water.

As the baking sun beat down on her she marvelled at the irony. 'It should be raining.' That was the only thought she could muster. 'It should be raining.' Death surrounded her, but the rain hadn't come to wash it away. Instead, she lay on the hard ground, where she'd fallen.

A few more moments passed.

'Get. Up.'

She told herself once more.

'Get. Up.'

Slowly she pushed the heavy cloak off of her and raised her head. As her eyes surveyed the battleground through the thick Brown hair that covered her face she felt them warm.

'Don't cry. Get up!'

She managed to push herself to her knees. Every muscle in her body screamed with pain. There it was. Feeling. Pain. That made sense. She'd been hit with one of the most vicious curses known to wizard kind. She should feel pain.

She blinked as the sunlight half-blinded her. In the distance she heard a strange sound. She'd heard it before, somewhere. It was a song. But there were no words. Just sweet sound. After a moment it came to her.

Birds. The realisation seemed incredulous. Birds were singing.

Suddenly the sun disappeared. 'That's more like it.'

Strong arms enveloped her, pulling her to her feet.

Fear fell upon her and she struggled against the arms.

"Hermione stop."

She struggled blindly one moment longer. She couldn't let them hurt her. There was something. Something she needed to do. Somewhere she needed to be.

"Hermione please. Please stop." The voice broke as she realised she recognised it. That tone… She knew this person.

She felt hands on her. Pushing the hair back from her face.

Red Hair. That meant something. Why couldn't she remember? Red hair was important. Somehow.

The voice spoke again. Slightly more controlled than before.

"Hermione. Can you hear me? It's Charlie. Charlie Weasley."

Weasley. Weasley. Then, in a sudden burst she remembered. Ron Weasley. Her best friend. He'd held her, whispered in her ear. '_It'll be okay Hermione. You'll see. After this is all over, we can go away somewhere. Just the three of us. A holiday. I'd say we deserve one! Just You, me and Harry.'_

Harry.

The battle had been storming around her and she'd looked across the grounds. Suddenly the world had disappeared as she'd stared into those calm Green eyes. Then he'd smiled gently at her, and turned towards the door. The entrance to the house. Where Voldemort was.

"Harry." She didn't realise that she'd said the word aloud, that it had come out as a question. But she received an answer anyway.

"He's okay. He did it. It's over."

Blinking again – damn that sun – She looked into Charlie Weasley's eyes and saw something new. Something she'd never seen there before. Pain. Loss. Grief.

"Ron?" She didn't want to ask. She didn't want to hear the answer. In a way, she already knew. But she wouldn't believe it.

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Charlie could barely speak at that. He didn't want to think on it. That's why, when the fighting had ended, he was one of the first to search for the wounded.

Keep moving, don't stop, don't think, don't let it in.

When he'd seen her, fear had gripped him. She wasn't moving. As he'd rushed towards her, he saw her head slowly look up, her face covered by that ridiculously long hair.

He'd slowed slightly, letting the relief wash over him. She was okay.

As she'd struggled to her knees he'd sped up again. The agony on her face had been clear as the day.

After he'd managed to calm her down, and explained that Harry was okay, she'd said the word he'd been refusing to think. Ron.

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They stared at each other. The moment seemed endless, dragging slowly past as he tried to find the words. Words that he knew would never come, because once he spoke them, they'd be true.

Hermione gasped as she realised she'd been holding her breath. The soft sound jolted them back to the battlefield. Suddenly the screaming and crying assaulted their ears like a jackhammer. Then she realised she didn't want to know. Didn't want to hear it.

"We." She paused, clearing her throat, wincing at the pain that accompanied the action. "We should go help the others."

He didn't reply, simply moved his head slightly to signal his agreement.

She stepped out of his arms and was quickly reminded of the reason he'd been holding her in the first place. She looked up at him, blinking away the tears that had arrived with the pain that wracked her body. How had she ended up on the floor?

Gently, he lifted her again.

"I can walk." She muttered, as he lifted her into his arms, one behind her back, one beneath her legs.

He made a sharp bitter sound. A laugh? No, none of them would be laughing any time soon.

The sun was dimming. She whispered this observation to Charlie. He didn't reply. Then the world disappeared.

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	2. The Many Woes of Molly Weasley

Disclaimer: If they were mine, Sirius would still be alive!

Chapter 2 – The Many Woes of Molly Weasley

It was dark. Hermione listened for a sound, some clue as to where she might be. She could hear murmuring, but could not make out the words or the voices. Why was it so dark?

Ah. Eyes closed. Right. She should have figured that out quicker. But her head felt too fuzzy to think logically. Or at all.

She opened her eyes. As the light hit them the buzzing in the back of her head forced through to the front of her mind. Trying to push it aside she looked around her. It seemed to be some kind of tent. With lots and lots of beds. With lots and lots of people. A girl with red and white robes, and short honey-blonde hair rushed past. Hermione vaguely recognised her as a Hufflepuff, a couple of years older then her. The girl was holding a bottle of potion.

Hermione's eyes followed her until they came to rest on the person in the bed next to her. She let out an involuntary gasp as she took in the sight. The boy was covered in violent cuts and burns. Half his face was what looked like one massive burn and his right arm was bent in the most unnatural position.

"Finally awake then I see."

Hermione turned her head to the right, towards the calm voice that she now realised she'd been longing to hear.

She stared in silence at the tight smile he was giving her. He looked relatively unharmed. Scratched and bruised, with bags under his raw, reddened eyes, but still, he was standing.

She tried to smile back at him, but found that she couldn't quite remember how. Instead, she said his name.

"Harry."

"Hermione."

His smile widened a fraction and then he was holding her so tightly she felt she might break.

He let go and stepped back just as quickly as he'd hugged her.

"Sorry Hermione. I forgot… I mean… I know it might hurt for a while."

She looked at him quizzically before she remembered. A dark-haired woman's cruel smirk. The words repeating over and over. Crucio. Crucio. Crucio. Crucio. Crucio.

Why had she stopped?

Ah yes. Ginny. Ginny had hexed her from behind. The full body-bind. And something else… Hermione couldn't remember what else Ginny had said. All she remembered was Bellatrix's screams.

But if Ginny was there, where was she now?

"Harry?"

"Yes Hermione." He sounded worried, apprehensive, nervous. As if he was scared of what she would ask.

"Where's… where's Ginny?"

His features relaxed slightly.

"I think she's with her mother. They're helping in another tent. Charlie said she's fine. Looks better than almost anyone here apparently."

Hermione noted the relief in his voice.

She tried to move then, only to discover that her muscles had most definitely decided to go on strike.

"Ssshhh." Harry muttered.

Why was he shushing her? Had she said something?

"Stop trying to move. You need to rest. Madam… I mean, Poppy said you'll be fine but you need at least a week solid without moving."

A week! But she needed to see the others. Now!

"Harry. Please. I need. I need." What did she need? Damn, if only her head would stop buzzing.

Harry understood though. "I'll go tell them that you're awake, shall I?"

Hermione tried to nod her head. But she refused to ask who 'them' were. Because she'd have to acknowledge who wasn't there. And she couldn't hear it. Not yet.

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As Harry left the tent he kept his head facing towards the ground. He wouldn't look at the area around him. They still hadn't managed to collect all of the bodies. He hadn't looked once since he'd arrived back to the medical tents. He didn't want to see anyone he knew laying out there.

As he entered the second tent, he glanced at the bed directly to his right. Fleur was sat in a chair next to it, her head resting on her Husband's chest, tears glinting in her eyes.

He paused and spoke quietly to her.

"Any change?"

Fleur looked at him blankly for a moment. Then she turned her face away from him to stare at Bill's.

Harry waited a moment, looking at the eldest Weasley, before he continued his journey to the back of the tent.

Then he saw her.

Long red hair pulled back into a loose bun, her delicate hand holding a wet cloth against her brother's forehead.

He didn't move for a moment, watching her.

"George. George come on. You've got to wake up now. Come on George. Stop being a lazy arse and wake up!"

She looked away from the twin. Her eyes held a determined look as she blinked back the tears. And then she saw him.

Time froze as he moved nervously towards her. She rose slowly from her chair, stepped around the bed and ran.

She flung herself into his arms and Harry held on to her as tightly as he could.

Then the tears came.

She was so quiet he didn't even realise she was crying until he felt the uncomfortable damp patch on his shoulder.

"Ginny." He murmured.

She sniffed and pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes.

The last time they'd been this close all he could think of was how much he wanted to kiss her. Now all he could think was how could he take the pain from her beautiful brown eyes?

"How's…?" He began.

"Fine." She replied. "But he doesn't know yet. When he wakes. I can't tell him. Harry how do you tell someone that half of them is… is…"

"I don't know." He replied, cutting her off before she could say the word.

"And then I have to tell him about Bill, and dad and… Ron."

Harry let go of her then. He didn't want to think about that. She shouldn't make him remember.

"Hermione?"

"She's in the other tent." He replied quietly. "She's awake. Maybe, when you have a moment, could you…?"

"Of course." Ginny replied, as she grabbed her wand from the end of George's bed.

"Mum! Will you be okay for a moment?"

Molly Weasley looked up from the Auror she was treating. She looked briefly at Harry, a small smile briefly graced her face before her gaze fell upon the boy in the bed behind them.

"He's not awake yet?"

"No. You know George…" Ginny tried to think of a joke, something to ease the tension that had been in the tent for so many hours. But nothing would come to her.

Molly nodded slightly, the pained look now back on her face. She understood.

"Tell Hermione I'll be in to see her later. When… "

"Okay."

Molly Weasley looked on as her daughter walked out of the tent with the saviour of the wizarding world. And as her gaze fell on the patient at the front of the tent, whose wife was crying once again, she tried to be thankful for those of her children that had survived. But when you've lost a husband and two sons, it takes time before the word thankful can be used.

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	3. That Which is Better Left Unspoken

Disclaimer: The fact that Hermione puts up with Ron should be proof enough that they ain't mine!

Chapter 3 – That which is better left unspoken

"Hermione?"

She looked around her, trying to see who was speaking to her.

"I'm in the bed opposite. Don't try to move. I just wanted to see if you were awake. Can you talk?"

"Yes." She croaked. "Who…?"

"Sorry. It's me. Neville I mean."

"Are you okay Neville?"

She heard a bitter laugh from across the way.

"Yes I'm fine, in comparison to some of the others."

In comparison to… what did he mean?

"What happened Neville?"

There was a long silence.

"Don't you remember?"

Remember. Remember what?

"No."

Neville sighed. He really didn't want to relive it all again. Not so soon. But she deserved to hear it. She deserved to know.

"It was the Cruciatus. You were there. You really don't remember?"

Hermione closed her eyes. Trying desperately to remember something, anything.

Neville continued slowly.

"I was near the house. Helping to clear the way for Harry. You were there. So was Professor Lupin, Hagrid, Moody. Lupin's girlfriend was there I think. Tongs?"

"Tonks."

"Yes. And Ginny. And Ron." His voice lowered at the end. He waited for her to ask. When the inevitable question didn't come, he continued.

"I was duelling with Goyle. Surprisingly more difficult than you'd think. Then she was there. Lestrange. You were fighting with her when I saw her. I joined you. Thought between the two of us… But then, you were distracted. It… are you _sure_ you don't remember?"

Hermione replied in the negative once again.

Sighing, Neville continued.

"It was Krum. He bumped into you from behind as he… killed… Dean."

Hermione gasped as the memory finally came flooding back.

She was hexing Bellatrix. Sending everything she could think of at the woman, when she felt someone knock her. Swirling around she looked up into a pair of familiar eyes. She remembered those eyes. She'd gazed into them all night. That was three years ago of course, but still, she would never forget.

Recognition seemed to register briefly before he stepped back.

Then she saw Dean's body on the ground.

And she looked back up.

And she froze.

Krum fell as Tonks hexed him.

She yelled to Hermione. "Hermione. Snap out of it. Help Neville."

Then she ran back towards Harry.

Hermione's eyes followed Tonks. Suddenly the world had disappeared as she'd stared into those calm Green eyes. Then he'd smiled gently at her, and turned towards the door.

The scream snapped her back to the battle.

Whipping around, Hermione saw Bellatrix, laughing as Neville writhed before her.

"Crucio." She cackled.

Hermione saw red. The noises of the battle went fuzzy and she did it.

"Crucio."

The smile left the witch's face briefly. Then she turned and smirked at Hermione.

"No, no, no. It goes more…"

"Crucio." Hermione tried again. Still Bellatrix did not fall, did not scream. She shook herself and continued.

"… like this. Crucio."

Searing, white-hot, pain split through Hermione's body. Then, just as suddenly, it stopped.

Hermione gasped as the pain dulled. Then she felt the woman's breathe against her check, whispering to her.

"You're the clever one aren't you! The book worm. Well think of this as a lesson. I keep showing you how to do it properly. Until you can show me."

The breath disappeared as she stood again.

"Crucio."

Hermione felt, rather than heard, the scream rip through her throat.

"Crucio… Crucio... Crucio… Crucio"

Soon, they all blended together, until Hermione, tears streaming down her eyes, wished for an end. For death.

Then she heard a different voice screaming Petrificus Totalus. Then she heard the same new voice screaming Crucio, but the wracking pain did not come. Instead she caught a flash of long red hair and then the world went black.

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"Hermione?" Neville said quietly.

"I remember." She replied.

"Hermione, how are you?" The soft voice appeared next to her. As she looked over, wincing slightly at the movement, she saw Ginny, Harry and Remus Lupin.

"I'm fine Ginny. Professor Lupin, it's good to see you."

Lupin knelt by the bed, taking Hermione's right hand in his own, before smiling kindly at her.

"Please Hermione, I think we've all been through more than enough for you to call me Remus now. I'm so glad you're okay. And you'll be up and about again in no time."

Harry took a step closer, worry clear on his face. He dreaded what he was about to say. But they couldn't ignore it forever.

"Hermione, I… we have to talk. I have to tell you… Ron, he's…"

"I know." She said dully. "We don't have to talk about it. Not yet. I know Harry but it's… it's too soon… to… to talk."

There was a brief silence, which was interrupted by Ginny sniffing and suddenly turning and running out of the tent.

Harry looked after her, then back at Hermione, indecision holding him in place.

"Go on Harry, I'm fine."

He gave his best friend a small smile of thanks, before running after the red-head to try and comfort her.

Turning back to Lupin, Hermione decided it was best to get it all over with in one go. "Pr… Remus. Who else?"

Lupin's face was ashen at the realisation that he had unwittingly accepted the task of relaying the names of those who hadn't made it. He moved and sat in the chair, looking older and wearier than Hermione had ever seen him.

"If you can't…" she began to let him off the hook, so to speak, but he understood that she needed to know, and no-one else would be able to tell her. The rest were still in mourning for their families and friends. He had neither to worry about, so he continued.

"It's okay Hermione," he sighed. "You deserve to hear it sooner rather than later."

He paused for a moment, conjured a glass of water for himself, and asked,

"Were shall I begin?"


	4. The List

Disclaimer: Can I at least have Remus? Nope? Bugger… Apparently, none of these characters will ever be mine.

Author Note: Sorry this is so short but I just can't get it, but it needs to be in here.

Chapter 4 – The List

Hermione thought on it for a moment.

"I know about… " There it was again. She couldn't even say his name.

"What about the other Weasleys? I've seen Ginny and Charlie. But Arthur? The Twins?"

Remus took a deep breath, and began the list.

"Arthur and Fred… didn't make it. Bill and George are in another tent. George will be fine. Bill… Well they're still not sure. At the moment we're just waiting. Percy is still at the ministry of course, helping the minister I believe."

"And, the professors?"

Remus took a sip of his water before continuing.

"Well Hagrid is fine, Professors McGonagall is helping Madam Sprout and Poppy in some of the tents. Professors Vector and Flitwick, and Madam Pince, they did not make it." He paused once more. "Trelawney, disappeared, no-one's seen her yet."

As he paused once more, a strange look graced his face.

"Pro… Remus?" Hermione said gently. "If you want to stop."

"No. no it's… I'm fine. Snape. Was there, when Harry… He threw himself in front of Harry, blocking a curse from Voldemort. He died, saving Harry."

Hermione had gasped at this. Snape. But after everything he'd done. After Dumblodore… It just didn't make sense… unless…

"Dumbledore asked him to do it didn't he?" She asked quietly.

Remus sighed, "We'll never know for certain of course, but I suspect… it is possible that Snape was obeying Dumbledore's wishes."

The two of them sat in silence for what seemed like hours, before Remus continued.

"Tonks is okay. Her powers are a bit off at the moment. She keeps changing. Can't keep the same for more than a few minutes. Kingsley's gone. Doge, Jones. Arabella Figg, she's in one of the other tents, it looks serious. She managed to get out a couple of curses, but…"

Hermione looked up at him, confusion evident on her face. "I thought that Mrs Figg was a squib? How did she…"

"We're not sure. It's incredibly rare for a squib to find their magic develop so late in life. I believe that there is only one other recorded incident."

"Remus, I need to get out of here. I mean it. I can't just lay here being useless."

Remus stared at her, gave a long, weary sigh and said "No. You're not being useless. You have to rest Hermione. Your muscles are too weak to support you right now, you need to give them time to strengthen again. Just try not to think about it."

Hermione let out a bitter laugh at that. Not think about it! Was he insane?

"Just try to sleep." He told her. "I'll be back later."

And then Hermione was left alone, to dwell on her memories.


	5. Nature's Law, that man was made to mourn

Chapter 5 – Nature's Law, That Man was Made to Mourn

A/N – Slightly longer Chapter this time to make up for chapter 4. Brownie points for everyone who can say who wrote the title quotation.

Two endless weeks had crawled past since the final battle. The wounded had mostly been moved to St. Mungo's, although those who needed little more than rest, were sent home. Hermione was at her parents house, pacing around her bedroom, desperate to leave. As she heard the soft sound of her mother's footsteps on the stairs the young Gryffindor rushed back to her bed, diving under the covers.

"Hermione?" her mother whispered as she opened the door. "Ah good, you're awake. I've made you some soup."

Hermione gave her mother a small smile of thanks before replying. "Thanks mum. I really appreciate this, but I'm fine now really. I feel 100 better. In fact, I was thinking of going to visit some of my friends tomorrow."

Elizabeth Granger pursed her lips briefly, but one glance at her daughter's hopeful face changed the look to a weary smile. She knew that her daughter was unhappy. That all she really wanted was to be back in her world, helping her friends. The only problem with that particular scenario was that Elizabeth wasn't a part of that world. She couldn't protect her little girl from all of these things that she didn't understand. Only two weeks earlier her baby had nearly died, and now that she was better, all she could think of was escaping her parents' house and running back to the very people who'd put her in danger in the first place.

Still, Hermione wasn't her little girl anymore and the sooner Elizabeth came to accept that, the easier it would be on her. After all, Hermione was nearly 18. In the wizarding world, as Elizabeth understood it, Hermione was already considered an adult.

Sighing, the tired woman sat at the end of her daughter's bed, handing her the bowl as she did so.

"Honey," she began. "I understand that you want to see your friends, and I can't, I won't stop you. I just worry. I mean, one moment you tell me that everything's fine, that school is going well and there's nothing to worry about. Then suddenly that Lupin gentleman turns up on our doorstep telling us that you were nearly killed and you can't leave your bed for at least a fortnight."

Hermione winced in guilt. She hadn't been completely honest with her parents. But she just hadn't seen any point in worrying them about something they had no control over.

Elizabeth continued, "What I'm saying is, that your father and I may just be muggles, and we may not be able to help you very much, but we are always here for you. The last thing we want is for you to feel that you can't talk to us. Please understand that it was very difficult for us to let you go to that school in the first place. Neither of us went to boarding school, and not seeing you every day was very hard for us. Even after 7 years, we still miss you every day. So go and be with your friends, but please try to come and see us as often as you can. Your father finds it especially hard, what with being used to having a large family around him."

Hermione spotted the change of subject and jumped upon it, eager to avoid the guilty feeling that had come upon her.

"Has he heard from any of the family yet?"

"No…" Elizabeth replied, and they spent the next hour discussing matters far more mundane than evil wizards and lost friends.

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The next day Hermione found herself standing outside the Burrow clutching her bag tightly wondering why on earth she was so nervous. As she knocked on the door she realised exactly why. This was not the Burrow that she remembered. There was no running feet to answer the door, no loud voices yelling at each other. She couldn't hear the cheerful laughter that had always greeted her on her past visits. As the door opened and a very grim looking Ginny answered the door, Hermione realised that as desperate as she'd been to see her friends, she really didn't want to be there.

Ginny allowed a small smile to cross her lips as she stepped forward to give her friend a hug.

"Hermione, I'm so glad you're here. You look so much better."

Hermione returned the weak smile. "Thank you. I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier. My mother…"

"Don't be ridiculous." Ginny interrupted, ushering her friend into the house and pushing her towards the kitchen table. "We all understand. The last thing we'd want is for you to risk your health just to visit us. Besides, You'd probably have been terribly bored. The whole family has been running round looking after Bill and George. Mum's been cleaning the house constantly." Ginny lowered her voice slightly before continuing. "I think it's the only way that she can keep her mind off of… everything."

Hermione nodded her understanding, feeling a stab of guilt at not having come earlier.

"How are George and Bill? Has there been any change?"

Ginny nodded in affirmation, but she did not smile. "Bill's awake, but he's very weak. And… he's paralysed from the waist down. We don't know what his chances of recovery are. At the moment he can't stay awake for very long, but he's alive, stable and trying to put on a brave face. After all, Bill's always been the brave one. Fleur is pretty quiet. Which is kind of nice, but pretty unsettling. She mostly just stays in Bill's room. She offers to help mum, but doesn't push it when mum says no. They seem to be getting along far better now. Tea?"

"Yes please." Hermione replied as Ginny moved over to the kettle. "Here let me do it. It's quicker with my wand."

"Oh don't worry. I enjoy doing it. It makes me feel useful." Ginny replied, her back was still turned away from Hermione, but the catch in her voice was unmistakeable. Hermione sat in uncomfortable silence for a minute, while Ginny pottered about preparing the tea and sniffing quietly.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a teacup crashing to the floor and Ginny's loud, angry swearing.

Hermione gave herself a mental kick for sitting there while her friend was obviously upset. She rose from her chair and wandered over towards the red-head.

"Ginny, are you okay?" she asked quietly. Ginny turned towards Hermione, her eyes filled with unshed tears .

Hermione wrapped her arms around the younger girl, trying to comfort her. "Oh Ginny, I'm so sorry." She whispered as her friend stood there in her arms crying her eyes out.

After a moment, Hermione gently moved Ginny back to the table and sat her down in a seat. She grabbed a tissue from one of the many boxes that seemed to be littering the Weasley's kitchen. While Ginny composed herself, Hermione set about fixing the cup and finishing the tea. By the time the tea was placed on the table Ginny had calmed down a little.

"I'm sorry Hermione…"she began to say.

"Don't." Hermione replied forcefully, surprising Ginny somewhat. "Don't apologise. I know you Ginny. I'll bet you've not spoken to anyone yet have you?"

Ginny sniffled slightly and gave a tiny shake of her head, confirming Hermione's suspicions.

"Well you can't carry on like this. I know you want to be strong for the others, but you have to work through your own grief as well."

Ginny nodded again. "I just really didn't want to do this. Mum's a mess, Fleur and Bill are locked away in that room, Percy has hardly been home at all and George… Merlin Hermione he's a mess. It's him I'm worried about the most. I've never known him to not be happy. And I just don't know what to do! I don't know how to help him. I mean, Fred was always there for him, they've always had each other, so the rest of us just never got close to them. I mean, obviously we were close, but they never needed any of us. And now I just don't know what I should be doing. Charlie and I have tried everything we can think of to get him out but nothing seems to work. The store hasn't been open for weeks, I'm sure that the rent must be piling up and every time I mention it he just storms off to his room."

Ginny took a deep breath, a sip of tea and went silent, staring hopelessly out of the window.

Hermione sat in silence for a moment, contemplating exactly how she could help. After all, the Weasleys were practically family. She owed it to Ron. He was her best friend and she couldn't just sit idly by and watch his family fall apart. Finally, she hit upon an idea.

"Ginny, I don't know how to help get George out of his room, but perhaps, I could help out with the shop. I mean, I don't have a job yet, I haven't even really thought about what to do next. Maybe, if George is okay with the idea, I could run the shop for him. Just until he decides what he wants to do."

Ginny looked up at Hermione and a brief flicker of gratitude shone in her damp Brown eyes. "Thank you Hermione. I'll mention it to him tonight at dinner."

"Don't bother." Came the gruff voice from the kitchen door. George was standing there glaring at the two girl.

"George!" Ginny exclaimed. "I didn't realise that you were up."

"Obviously." Her brother replied angrily, "after all, if you'd known I was up you wouldn't be sitting here planning on giving our… my shop away to the first person that comes asking."

Hermione sat quietly throughout this exchange, shocked by George's appearance. He'd obviously not been taking care of himself. His face was pale, his bright red hair unwashed and a small beard had appeared. When she glanced at Ginny's face as he yelled at her, she could see the tears welling up again. Hermione briefly debated whether or not she should intervene. Finally, the part of Hermione that hated seeing another person hurt won out.

"George that isn't what we meant at all. I was simply offering to give you a hand if you needed one. It's what Ron would have wanted." She whispered the last part, but George still heard it.

"Yeah well guess what Hermione, Ron's dead. So what he'd want doesn't really matter now does it."

Hermione gasped as George said the two words that she'd managed to avoid ever since the final battle. They echoed in her head.

Ron's dead. Ron's dead. Ron. Is. Dead.

Warm tears began to well up in Hermione's eyes, while Ginny sat still as a statue, staring intently at the teapot in front of her.

The three of them stayed that way for a long time, each caught up in their own thoughts, their own nightmares. The stillness was finally broken when a loud pop signalled the entrance of another Weasley.


	6. Release

Chapter 6 – Release

A/N – This is an edited version of the original chapter as a couple of small things needed changing in order for it to fit in with my much belated plan.

Charlie silently surveyed the scene he'd apparated into.

His brother was stood in the doorway glaring accusingly at his sister and Hermione. Charlie sighed at the realisation that George still hadn't washed or changed. This was, he guessed, the first time his brother had ventured downstairs in at least three days.

Then Charlie looked at his sister. He noted that her eyes were red and swollen, her face blotchy. He'd seen this too many times in the last two weeks. His baby sister's face always showing evidence of the tears she refused to let them see.

Then there was Hermione. Silent tears streaking her cheeks as she stared back at George, the pain in her warm brown eyes a sad indication that yet again his younger… no, youngest now. His youngest brother had once more let his temper escape him. And it appeared that poor Hermione had borne the brunt of the boy's anger.

Originally Charlie's plan upon arriving home__had been to check on Bill and his mother. Now it appeared that would have to wait, as he played peacekeeper once more between his siblings. But how to begin? What could he possibly say to ease the tension in the room, considering he didn't know it's cause?

Fortunately, help came in the unlikely form of Hermione herself.

Hermione had never been so happy to see Charlie Weasley. The tension in the room was almost unbearable when the young man apparated in. After a moment her gaze broke away from George. With a quick glance around the former head girl noted that neither Ginny nor George had acknowledged their brother's arrival. Breaking the painful silence Hermione greeted Charlie warmly.

"Charlie, it's good to see you."

Casting a quick look at his younger brother and sister, Charlie replied "Hi Hermione. I didn't realise you were visiting today. How are you?"

Hermione answered nervously, all the while aware of the fact that neither of the room's other two occupants were moving. "I'm as well as can be expected I suppose. And yourself? How are you…" (holding up? Coping? Dealing with the loss of a father and two siblings? Merlin Hermione, how do you think he is?)

Charlie grimaced slightly before returning her previous answer. "As well as can be expected I guess."

Turning to his brother, Charlie asked "George? How are you doing today?" the elder Weasley quickly realised that this was the wrong question.

"FINE!" George yelled. "Fred's dead, Dad's dead, Ron's dead. Bill is barely alive and Ginny is planning on giving our… my… the shop away! Everything's just peachy!" With that, George turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen slamming every door he came across between there and his bedroom.

With each bang the three remaining in the kitchen jolted slightly. Charlie gave Ginny a questioning look, before asking.

'The shop?'

Realising that Ginny was still upset, and eager to ignore George's earlier outburst of that taboo phrase, Hermione jumped in to explain.

"It wasn't… I mean… I just thought, if George was having… difficulties, in looking after the shop, considering… everything. Well, I thought perhaps, as I'm not really doing anything at the moment… That…Maybe, I could…" Hermione trailed off, realising now, how it must have sounded to George. Concocting some scheme with Ginny, just to keep herself occupied. He must think her incredibly selfish. But if only she had been given the chance to explain.

Charlie gave Hermione a small smile, as he realised she was clearly finding everything as difficult as they were. Possibly more than some of them. At least they had the rest of the family to worry about. Hermione had lost one of her closest friends in the world, and had nothing to do but think about that fact.

"It was a very nice idea Hermione." He began gently. "But at the moment George is very…" What? George is very sad? That much was obvious. Angry? She'd already seen plenty of evidence to support that. Scared? It would be insulting her intelligence, to imagine she didn't realise how scared his brother was at the thought of a future without his twin.

"George is still processing everything. I don't think he's ready to think about the shop. But it is a very good idea, so I'll sit down with him tonight, when he's a bit calmer, and explain what you were offering."

Hermione smiled a little at that. "Thank you Charlie. I do want to help. I just don't really know how."

Smiling once more, Charlie said goodbye to Hermione, gave his sister, still sitting in silence staring at the teapot, a big hug and whispered what Hermione assumed were words of reassurance in her ear. Then he left the kitchen to check on the rest of his family.

After a few minutes silence, Ginny gave her friend a weak smile, stating "Your tea's getting cold."

Hermione took a thoughtful sip of her tea, before asking Ginny, "Have you seen Harry recently?"

Ginny frowned slightly. "Not since the… the … funeral" Ginny gulped and clenched her jaw as she quietly forced out the word. "He stayed for the ceremony_,_ hardly said a word and then he left. I thought… Oh, I don't know what I thought. I just expected that things would be different now" The frustration in Ginny's tone was rapidly rising. "He went off and finished his job. He defeated You-know-who and I figured that would mean he'd stop avoiding me! Especially considering what we've been through." Ginny's anger was apparent. Hermione's first instinct was to shush her. To try and calm down the redhead. But then she realised that Ginny probably needed this. After 2 weeks stuck in the house with George and Bill and Fleur and her mother, Ginny really needed to let it all out.

And so Hermione listened as the younger girl got gradually louder, and more impassioned as she spoke of her loneliness, her sorrow at all she'd lost and her disappointment that the one person she wanted to comfort her refused to be near her.

They sat there for half an hour, before Ginny finally ran out of steam, people to curse and, most importantly, tea.

Hermione quickly whipped up another pot and as the two girls sat staring at their cups, Ginny asked Hermione the same question that had so recently set her off on her rant.

"When did you last see him?"

Hermione felt the guilt swell up within her. She hadn't wanted to admit it. But she'd asked first, so eager was she to hear of how her friend was doing. She stared into her cup at the tea, watching as a few air bubbles circled the centre, before disappearing completely.

Finally she spoke again.

"It's…" Hermione paused, unsure how to explain why she hadn't attempted to see her closest friend in the world, after they'd been through so much. As she thought, she remembered George's earlier words… "…guess what Hermione, Ron's dead."

Suddenly she realised why she couldn't see Harry.

"It's the talk."

Ginny looked confused, so Hermione continued, slowly.

"All these years, it's always been the three of us. But now, there's only two." She paused again, intent on holding in the tears this time.

"When I see him again. We'll have to talk about it. All of it. And I don't want to because… because that will make it real. I can't see Harry because then it really will be just the two of us. At least now, this way, I can imagine that they're off somewhere together, getting into trouble… or practising for the next quidditch match.. or merlin, even studying!"

Finally she gave up. The tears flowed freely and, reversing their earlier roles, Ginny held the older girl, patted her on the back, and silently cursed her brother for leaving them all here to deal with this. For going and dying and expecting them to all just cope.

After a while, the two girls, having finally cried out all the tears they could manage, stood up, brushed themselves off and realised that the sun had moved much lower in the sky, it was half past Five and Ginny decided that she should begin dinner.

Hermione popped in to say hello to Fleur and Bill. It was a very short visit, as they were both very tired and she did not wish to disturb them for too long.

While wandering through the rooms, Hermione heard a soft weeping coming from one of the rooms down the hall. As she approached cautiously, with a sinking feeling she realised which room the weeping was coming from. She turned quickly, tripped over an abandoned shoe, and landed with a heavy thud on the floor.

Hermione groaned slightly and, realising that the weeping had stopped, she jumped to her feet and attempted to reach the staircase before the door of that room opened, but she was too late. She turned as the door creaked open and found herself staring into the sad, warm eyes of Molly Weasley.


	7. Future Plans

A/N – Okay so it's been a ridiculously long time since I've updated, but unfortunately real life has kept me far too busy to seriously write for a while. But I really want to continue with this story as I've enjoyed writing it so much. So am going to keep plugging away at it, even though I can't guarantee regular updates. Thanks to all the lovely people who've left reviews, you're the key reason that I'm still (slowly) working on this and I really appreciate them.

Chapter 7 – Future Plans

"Hermione!" Molly gasped in surprise. "My dear, I had no idea that you were here! Why didn't you let me know when you arrived?"

The large, redheaded matriarch enveloped Hermione in an enormous hug. As the younger witch leant into the hug, she felt her earlier tears threaten to return. While you could never call her parents anything but warm and loving, there was something about a hug from Molly Weasley that made Hermione feel 5 years old again. Totally protected. Safe and warm.

"I didn't want to disturb you Mrs Weasley. Ginny and I were catching up, and I know you've been so busy…" Hermione trailed of as the hug ended and Molly stared into Hermione's eyes, concern evident in her tired face.

"How are you doing dear?"

The words nearly broke Hermione's heart. She couldn't quite believe this woman. She'd lost a husband and two children with a third child seriously injured, but still Molly Weasley worried about others, those who, while definitely in pain, could never claim to have lost as much as her.

"I'm okay." Hermione managed to choke out. "I have missed you all though."

"And we've missed you my dear." Molly replied, patting Hermione on the back and guiding her back down the stairs, whispering, "I have never known my house to be so quiet before. We are all so glad to see you."

Hermione glanced at Molly, unsure of how to respond. While George's earlier reception greatly contradicted this claim, Hermione was thankful to hear the welcome all the same.

Fortunately, before she had to think of an appropriate reply, they had arrived in the kitchen and Hermione was able to return to the table, while Molly and Ginny discussed dinner.

At one point Hermione attempted to make them all tea, only to be rebuffed by Mrs Weasley's strong believe that 'Guests do not make tea for themselves!'

So while the two Weasley women pottered around in the kitchen, Hermione took a stroll through the garden, hoping to clear her thoughts a little.

As she strolled around the small garden, Hermione allowed some happy memories to return to her, for the first time in weeks. She remembered summers past, when she had visited Ron. Although it had only been a few visits, she could remember them all as clearly as if they had been only a few days, rather than years, ago.

She remembered the days they spent laughing at the twins, as they mucked about in the garden. She remembered the fun both herself and Harry had flinging gnomes over the garden fence, while Ron would grumble to himself.

She remembered teasing Ron in the mornings when he would emerge in the kitchen blurry eyed and messy haired, when she had already risen hours earlier, and had been sat on the garden bench, enjoying the sun, while studying a book.

This place had seemed so peaceful to her, despite, or even because of, the constant chaos within the walls of the cottage.

But now that it was far quieter within the cottage, the garden seemed less calming. There seemed to be a larger number of gnomes scurrying about in the bushes, and instead of the sweet whistling of the starlings, the only birds nearby sounded like crows, squawking angrily.

Eventually, upon hearing Molly's calls for George to come down for dinner, Hermione returned to the kitchen, the delicious scent of stew filled the room and instantly her stomach began to rumble as she realised it had now been several hours since her modest breakfast.

Smiling warmly, Molly asked if she had enjoyed her walk.

"It was nice." Hermione replied, with forced enthusiasm as she seated herself at the table next to Ginny. Molly quickly served up six bowls, placing four on the table and two on a tray which she took up to Bill and Fleur before returning to join the girls.

As they ate Molly quizzed Hermione on her parents' health and her plans for the future. For Hermione the future was a terrifying prospect. For months the whole community had feared for the future of the wizarding world as a whole. To suddenly have to revert to planning for her own future confused the young witch. On the one hand, as a student she'd had more plans and hopes for the future than she could keep up with. Now however, she simply felt guilt that she still had a future to think about. Many of her friends and classmates were not so lucky.

Realising that Molly was still looking at her expectantly, Hermione answered hesitantly "I'm not really sure. It's a big decision and everything feels so ... up in the air right now. For so long the war is all I've really thought about. I know it sounds odd but, it feels strange to have to think about the future."

Molly gave Hermione an understanding smile. "Of course it's a big step. But you don't have to rush into a career. Bill didn't go straight from school to Gringotts. In fact for the first few years he changed jobs so often I couldn't keep up. It's good to experiment, try different things until you find something that you think fits you."

Hermione smiled as she thought on Molly's advice. Try different things... that actually made a lot of sense. Even in school she'd never been able to find one subject that completely satisfied her. Just look at her 3rd year – that had been hard work, but she'd loved the fact that she had the opportunity to try so many different subjects at once. Her mind wandered back to Charlie's earlier suggestion regarding the shop. It would certainly give her time to consider her options. And it would be nice to have something to keep her busy, to keep her mind off of all that had happened in the past few weeks.

Of course there was one rather large problem with that idea – George seemed as far from happy at the idea of help as was humanly possible. Well, perhaps if Charlie managed to speak to him about it, to explain.

"Thank you Molly" Hermione began, putting those thoughts out of her head for the moment. "That's a really good idea. I think it would do me good to get out there and see what's about. In fact, if you don't mind, I think I'll pop over to Diagon now. See if anyone is advertising for help."

Molly gave Hermione another warm smile, saying "of course my dear. You can use our floo if you like."

Hermione grinned. "Oh that's fine thank you, I'll just apparate to the Leaky."

Molly blinked and chuckled. "Of course. I forget that you can apparate now. You've all grown up so quickly."

The older woman's smile took on a haunted look, as her thoughts drifted to what Hermione imagined must be more painful memories of all she had suffered recently. Hurriedly the young witch thanked her host and, after promising to return for dinner the next day, she left, planning on spending a few hours wandering Diagon Alley in the hope of finding a distraction to occupy her for a few hours.


	8. Awakening

Chapter 8 – Awakening

**A/N – Okay, I know it's been an excessively long time since I updated. I've no excuses but I do have an explanation. I'll try to be brief. **

**When I started this story it was a one-shot and I couldn't leave it alone. I had a vague idea of where I wanted to go, but no real plan. Recently I revisited what I had written so far, thanks entirely to the lovely reviews I was still getting, years after my last update (Thank you guys!), and I formulated an actual plan. Unfortunately, this plan got away from me a bit and took on a life of its own, hence the movement from the Hermione/Charlie section to Hermione/George. I understand if the serious Hermione/Charlie fans are reticent about continuing, but I would just like to assure them that Charlie will still be a MAJOR presence in the story and his friendship with Hermione is vital to the plot throughout.**

**So with a tentative promise to update again faster than the previous update (not difficult I know!) and no further ado, here is Chapter 8…**

The screams assaulted Hermione's ears, making her blood run cold and her heart race. Flames lit up the sky above Diagon Alley, illuminating the chaos in the streets below. All around her were broken, beaten, dying witches and wizards, and every building within her view was little more than a ruin of broken glass and fallen bricks.

A hand grasped her shoulder and as Hermione spun around she let out a horrified scream as she came face to face with the horrifying mask of a Death Eater.

Sparks flashed in the corner of her eye and the death eater was on the floor, giving her a clear view of an even more horrifying scene.

Directly in front of her was her best friend, lying on the ground, face deathly pale, blood pooling around him. Suddenly she was kneeling next to him, tears streaming down her face as she begged him to wake up.

"Please, God, Ron, please wake up, please. I can't, I don't know what to do. Please Ron, please wake up!"

Ron's eyes fluttered, half open and he looked adoringly at her, then he glanced briefly behind her before struggling to say something.

The young witch tried desperately to calm her gasping sobs and she leaned closer to try and hear him, clutching his hand as if it were a lifeline.

"'Mione" Ron broke off, a choking cough preventing him from continuing.

Hermione shushed him, but Ron ignored her and once he could speak he continued.

"'Mione… help… help George." It was only a few words, but the force behind them seemed to be too much and Ron exhaled, long and heavy. Hermione held her breath as she waited for him to breath back in, but he didn't.

Blinded by tears, she looked desperately around for someone, anyone, who could help her. As she surveyed the scene she realised that hers was not the only broken wail that she could hear. Turning towards the sound the seemed almost animalistic in it's raw emotion, she saw George Weasley lying on the ground a few feet away, clutching the lifeless body of his twin to him. Behind him another Death Eater was grinning viciously as he aimed his wand at the weeping redhead.

Hermione screamed as she grabbed her wand. "GEORGE!" but she was too slow. The boy didn't even blink at the sound of his name. Hermione knew even as she began to yell the curse that it was too late and a green light shot from the Death Eater's wand straight into the heartbroken Gryffindor.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

Gasping Hermione shot up in her bed. Her bedroom door flew open and she breathed a sigh of relief as her mother came running over to her.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Mrs Granger cried as she enveloped her daughter in a tight hug.

Hermione steadied her breathing before replying, "Yes, yes 'm fine. It was just a dream" Then she repeated it forcefully as if to convince herself she was correct. "Just a bad dream." Her thoughts flew to the previous day, her trip to Diagon Alley had been quiet and peaceful. There had been few signs of the war, beyond several closed stores and a much smaller crowd than was usual, made up almost entirely of the sad faces of those who were still dealing with their losses.

Her mother held her, stroked her hair and asked once more if she was sure everything was okay. After several more reassurances, Hermione was left alone again, to try and sleep.

She lay in bed for several hours, too tired to rise, too scared to let herself return to a deep sleep. Around 6am she gave up and quickly washed and dressed. Leaving a note for her parents to let them know that she'd be out for the day, Hermione apparated back to Diagon, still slightly unsettled by her dream and needing to see for herself that all was as it should be.

She wandered around the Alley for an hour, silently battling the sense of unease that remained. Finally admitting that, although it was entirely ridiculous, she wouldn't be able to settle until she'd satisfied herself that George was okay, the tired witch apparated to the Burrow.

She'd intended to see Ginny, confirm that everyone was okay, but instead of arriving just outside the wards at the front of the house, Hermione instead found herself in the field out the back. 'Clearly apparating on only a couple of hours sleep was not a good idea' she thought as she trudged up towards the back garden.

As she neared the cottage, she saw a gnome go sailing over her head and a quick glance in the direction that it had come from revealed Charlie Weasley. He stopped his movements as he noticed her and watched silently as she approached him.

"Morning Charlie." Hermione called out with a small smile as she reached the gate. "Isn't it a little early for de-gnoming the garden?"

Charlie gave a brief almost-smile. She thought 7am was too early for sorting out the garden, but not too early to be visiting people. He chuckled slightly at the warped logic she seemed to possess before replying. "I couldn't sleep."

Hermione gave him another small smile as she reached him. It was sympathetic and understanding. "Me neither. I'm glad you're up though. I know it's early but I just couldn't work out what to do with myself."

"Hermione Granger couldn't think of anything to keep her occupied? Have you finally read every book ever published then?"

A small chuckle escaped the young woman and it suddenly hit her that she couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed. Pushing the depressing thought aside she explained to Charlie that as much as she tried, she found she couldn't lose herself in a book as easily as she used to. Lately she'd barely make it more than a few pages before her thoughts began to drift.

Charlie nodded his head in understanding as he opened the back door to the Burrow, gesturing for her to enter. "Would you like some tea?"

"Thank you that would be lovely."

"Have you eaten yet? I was about to make some breakfast, does egg on toast sound good?"

She was about to refuse, when her stomach answered for her with a loud growl. Charlie grinned at the sudden pink tint that rose in her cheeks. "I'll take that as a yes"

Looking quickly to her feet to hide her embarrassment, Hermione thanked him and took a seat at the kitchen table, facing the stove. She watched quietly as Charlie pottered about the kitchen.

They ate in silence, all thoughts of conversation forgotten as she tucked into the meal. It was gone in minutes and as soon as she had finished Hermione thanked him again. "That was delicious Charlie. And here I thought only the female Weasleys knew how to cook!"

He grinned cheekily at her. "Just don't tell anyone, I do have a reputation to uphold."

Soft thudding echoed down from the floor above. Charlie glanced up towards the ceiling. His grin quickly dissipated. "That sounds like George."

Hermione froze, her mind flashing back to the images from her dream. Suddenly her mind was assaulted with the false memory of George clinging to Fred as the green light approached him. Charlie noticed her pale and, misunderstanding the reason, he put a gentle hand on her arm and said quietly, "Please don't worry. I spoke to him last night, explained about… yesterday. He understands, he's not angry. Not at you anyway."

"Oh. Thank you." She replied quietly, nervously glancing at the kitchen door as if she didn't quite believe him. As she stared at the doorway, becoming lost in her thoughts Charlie removed his hand from her arm, sighing with quiet frustration that the brief sense of normality that had tentatively settled over him since her arrival was now gone. He quickly rose from his chair, grabbed the two empty mugs from the table and made some more tea.

Hermione was vaguely aware of Charlie's movements but she ignored it for the moment. Her thoughts were jumping about so rapidly she couldn't quite pin them down. When George appeared at the doorway in rumpled pyjamas, his hair scruffy and his eyes barely open she felt a small smile tugging at her lips. Then the memory of the day before came crashing back and she quickly turned her eyes towards the table in front of her.

"Morning George." Charlie called to his brother without turning. "Tea?"

"Hmph." George replied as he shuffled over to the table and sat heavily in the chair opposite Hermione. He looked up when the mug appeared before him and gave his older brother a small nod of thanks. Charlie responded with a meaningful glance at Hermione. "I'm just going to take this tea up to mum." He said as he left the room.

The atmosphere in the kitchen was impossibly tense. Hermione wished desperately that Charlie hadn't left her alone with George. She couldn't bring herself to look at the man who'd looked at her with such hatred the day before. She clutched the mug before her with both hands and watched the hot tea swirling slowly.

George cleared his throat, but she didn't look up. He cleared it again. "Mione" he muttered quietly. Slowly her head rose and their eyes met. George swallowed and tried to look apologetic, though he wasn't sure if he was succeeding. "I'msorryaboutyesterday." He rushed out.

Hermione was quick to respond. "No George I'm sorry. I really am. I honestly didn't mean to upset you or anything. I just really want to help, somehow. I have no idea what I'm doing lately and whatever I do or say just feels wrong. I'm such a complete moron. I should never have…" She lost her train of thought as she thought she glimpsed a small twinkle in George's eyes. But she blinked and it was gone. 'Oh brilliant Granger. Now you're rambling like a school girl. Shut up and leave the poor boy alone.

George was surprised by the forcefulness of her response. He could have sworn he heard Fred's laughter when he realised that Hermione 'Know-it-all' Granger had just called herself a moron. Then he felt his chest clench when he realised that he couldn't have heard his brother laugh. He would, in fact, never hear his brother laugh again. Failing to push the wave of agony away, he took a long gulp of his tea and took a deep breath as he remembered the promise he'd made to Charlie and his mother the night before.

"Hermione." He paused, taking another breath before continuing. "I shouldn't have treated you like that yesterday. The thing is…" he paused once more, realising that he didn't know how to continue. He couldn't possibly try to explain to this girl how he was feeling or what he was thinking because he had absolutely no fucking clue himself. 'Keep it simple mate.' Fred would say. 'Never give a woman too much information. She'll only use it against you eventually.'

"The thing is," he finally continued. "I will need to reopen eventually. But right now I can't bear the thought of being there. That said, I can't let anyone else take over. I know it's something I need to do, just not yet. But when I'm ready, I'd really appreciate you being there."

He looked at her carefully, trying to gage her reaction. The look of surprise on her face and lack of response began to make him feel uncomfortable. "If you still want to help, obviously." He continued, apprehensively.

Hermione gave him a very brief, very small smile. "Of course George. Anything that I can do. Just tell me what you need and when."

What DID he need? Suddenly George felt overwhelmed as he tried to think what needed doing. Thankfully, he was saved by his sister, who chose that moment to enter and cry out in surprise at seeing her friend there.

"Hermione! You're back! I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon." At this she glanced worriedly at her brother, hoping that he hadn't said anything rude.

Hermione smiled at the whirlwind that was Ginny Weasley as the younger girl started talking eagerly to her. Apparently after their discussion yesterday Ginny had decided that she wasn't going to put up with Harry ignoring her, so she'd owled him, demanding his presence for lunch at the burrow that Sunday, with the warning that if he wasn't there she would track him down and drag him there herself.

Hermione chuckled at the image that popped into her head of the small redhead dragging her best friend along by his ear through the streets of London.

"You'll come as well won't you?" Ginny asked hopefully. Hermione's smile faltered, but a quick glance at the quiet young man sitting across from her made her mind up. If George could force himself to start moving on then so could Hermione.

"Of course I will Ginny."

"Wonderful. You can help me choose what to wear."

A confused look crossed the older witch's face. "What do you mean?" She asked. A snort suddenly came from George's direction. Ginny glared at him briefly before turning her attention back to her friend.

"I mean, I want you to help me pick out something that will make Harry regret having stayed away for so long! Come on!" And with that Hermione found herself being dragged out of the kitchen. She quickly threw George an apologetic look as she was pulled out of the door and up the stairs. As they reached the landing she saw Charlie moving back towards them from Bill's room.

"Morning Charlie!" Ginny said brightly before pushing Hermione into her room and slamming the door behind them.

A smile settled on Charlie's face as he made his way back to the kitchen. He was so thankful that Harry had finally agreed to visit. Ever since the boy's reply had arrived the evening before Ginny had practically transformed in front of his eyes. Suddenly the sad look that had haunted her large brown eyes seemed to dim and her energy had finally returned. He knew Ginny had found it hard. She had always been closest to Ron and he knew the loss had affected her far more than she allowed her family to see. She was so busy being strong for her mother that Charlie worried she wasn't dealing with her own grief. Then after Hermione's visit the day before, she had seemed a little brighter. While he didn't know what the girls had discussed, he could tell that some of the weight had finally lifted from his sister's shoulders and now that Harry had finally responded to her, the whole house seemed that little bit brighter.

When he entered the kitchen Charlie sat quietly opposite his brother and sighed, wishing he could find some way of lessening George's pain. Seeing one sibling finally dealing with her grief made him long for his brother to do the same.

"Did you speak to Hermione?" He quietly asked.

George's head shot up, startled. He'd been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed his brother enter the room.

"Yes." He responded calmly. "She's going to help out. Once I figure out exactly what I need to do."

Charlie gave a relieved sigh. "Well let me know when you decide to go to the shop. I'll come too."

George looked confused. "Aren't you headed back to the reserve soon?" He asked bluntly.

"No. I'm needed here."

George nodded. Then he stood abruptly. "I'm gonna shower."

Charlie managed to keep his smile in check until his brother had left the room. Finally!


End file.
